All That Matters
by Black Pichu
Summary: If the fever doesn't kill me first, then this will... (Soul/Maka)


**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater and never will. This is a story I just wrote for fun because I'm a fan of Soul Eater.**

**I don't own the book _Fallen _by Lauren Kate, either.**

**Also, the plot was taken from a post on the "Imagine Your OTP" blog on Tumblr, so I don't take credit for it. However, the writing itself is mine.**

**A/N: This is possibly the closest to a drabble that I've ever written. _Ever_. Because my definition of a "short story" is around 1000 to 2000 words.**

**I began writing this right after I finished _Invisible_ because I was so pumped up with Soul/Maka feels. XD Even though it didn't take me much time to write this (it took about an hour), I think this really turned out well.**

**Also, I don't exactly know what the symptoms of a fever are, as I haven't really had one myself. I've only seen anime characters suffer from a fever, so I went off of that. I hope my description of it is still accurate.**

**One more thing: in the disclaimer, I mentioned this plot was taken from a post on the "Imagine Your OTP" Tumblr page. Just for reference, this is the post: _"__Imagine your OTP: Person A has been sick with a fever for a bit, and person B takes care of them, and when they can't do anything except wait for person A to start getting better, person B takes out a book and starts reading aloud for them." _Of course, when the post mentioned a book, I thought of Maka. XD**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story!**

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**All That Matters**

"Are you feeling any better, Soul?" Maka asked, concern in her green eyes as she laid a damp cloth on her boyfriend's warm forehead.

Soul moaned in response to the coolness against his skin. He was laying on his back on the couch in their living room, a soft, orange blanket covering the lower half of his body. One of his red eyes flickered open halfway; even doing something as simple as this was painful for him. "I'm... feeling a little better." He growled under his breath as he squeezed his eye shut again. "Damn it. It's been two days, so why do I still feel like crap...?"

With a sigh, Maka sat down on the couch by his feet. "I'm sorry, Soul. I wish I knew how to help you, but I don't know much about how to treat a sick person..."

Soul peeked at her underneath his eyelid. Her eyes were focused on her sneakers, and the corners of her mouth twitched slightly. Because he was her boyfriend, best friend, _and _Weapon partner, he knew how to read her body language to know what she was feeling better than anyone. And he could tell that she was upset.

"Maka," he said hoarsely. "Don't beat yourself up about it. I don't care if you don't know how to help me." He reached out, feeling around on the couch cushions for her hand. Once he found it, he took it in his own hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. "Just having you here with me makes me feel better. That's all that matters to me..."

She chuckled lightly in response, but his words still didn't do anything to calm her. The fact that she couldn't do anything except wait for Soul to feel better ate away at her. She racked through her brain for any possible thing she could do to help him; finally, it hit her.

Rising from the couch, Maka carefully placed Soul's hand on his chest. "Be right back," she said before rushing across the room. She snatched a book from the bookshelf and quickly returned to her spot on the couch.

"Maka... what are you doing?" the Weapon asked, who watched his girlfriend through his half-opened eyes.

She smiled at him as she flipped open the hard cover of the book. Soul could see that it was a novel, a lot smaller than the encyclopedia-sized books that she normally read. The novel's design was mostly black, the cover painted with varying shades of gray, portraying an eerie forest. In the foreground was a girl wearing a black dress and black, lace gloves. Her wavy black hair reached the middle of her back; her pale skin was the lightest color in the midst of the blacks and grays. She covered her face with her hands as if she was sobbing. "I'm just going to distract you, that's all," Maka assured, and she inhaled, her green eyes focused on the page.

"No, Maka..." Soul muttered, his voice almost pleading.

"'_In the Beginning. Helston, England. September 1854,_'" she read aloud. "'_Around midnight, her eyes at last took shape. The look in them was feline, half determined and half tentative—all trouble. Yes, they were just right, those eyes. Rising up to her fine, elegant brow, inches from the dark cascade of her hair._'"

Her boyfriend's loud groan interrupted her. His head flopped to the side on his pillow. _She's only read the first paragraph, and I'm already bored to death. _"Maka, I don't want you to read to me. Haven't I suffered enough...?"

Instinctively, the book slammed shut in her hands; scowling, she turned to him, raising the book in the air. But she froze once she noticed his pained expression and remembered his illness. Heaving a deep breath to cool down, she lowered the book, reopening it to the first page. "Soul, I'm trying to help you here. If you concentrate on something else, you might be able to ignore your fever."

"Alright... But can you pick another book, please? Something that's _not _a love story with pretty, sparkly vampires?" Even though his voice was weak, his mocking tone was still present in his words.

"You're thinking of a different book, Soul," Maka replied, presenting the cover to him. "This is about _angels_, not vampires."

"Whatever. It's still a sappy love story, and the angels _are_ pretty and sparkly."

The Meister rolled her green eyes before focusing them again on the black print on the page. She continued, "'_He held the paper at arm's length to assess his progress. It was hard, working without her in front of him—_'"

Soul moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. _If the fever doesn't kill me first, then this will..._

However, as he listened, his mind began to stray away from the pain that the fever inflicted on his body and concentrated on Maka's voice. He didn't pay any attention to the words she was speaking; he only listened to the sound of her soft voice, the way the emotions in the words she read were portrayed in its sweet, soothing sound. Deciding he didn't mind this treatment, a small grin broke upon his lips.

Just like he was always there for her, she would always be there for him. And that was all that mattered to him.

_**The End**_

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**A/N: Expect more "Imagine Your OTP"-inspired oneshots from me in the near future! :D I recommend it to any romance writer who is struggling with ideas.**

**Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a review to tell me what you think! :)**

**~Hayley**

_**Note: Please refer to the notice on my profile before reviewing.**_


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